This is a sequel to “Playing for Keeps.” All four parts are included, and it is complete. I’d recommend reading “Playing for Keeps” first, although that isn’t essential.
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Part 1
Sami tossed and turned last night at the Salem Inn, and this morning puffy “raccoon eyes” attested to that.
She hadn’t slept much the night before either as she’d made her way back to her hometown. The ride had been bumpy and tense. Although, in the last twenty-four hours, several Salemites asked her where she’d been hiding herself since mid-August, Sami had sidestepped the truth. She’d just airily answered, “Oh, you know how it is. I come and go.” For the most part though, she’d necessarily kept a low profile, staying out of public places and keeping most of her family in the dark.
Despite her efforts, Sami’s resurfacing landed her in the middle of yet another melodrama. Yesterday, she dragged herself over to the DiMera mansion hoping to buttonhole E.J. The manor buzzed like a hornet’s nest – so much activity. She quickly learned Abigail, Chad’s ex-wife, and the daughter of Jack and Jennifer Horton, had been admitted to the hospital, suspected of being possessed by a demon.
That crazy news got confirmed again when she ran into her father and Kate there. Asking incredulously how Abigail could have become possessed, her dad hemmed and hawed and flushed red, and Kate finally just blurted, “You might as well know, Sami. The story is that this alleged demon first invaded Doug Williams, and then somehow crossed over into your mother, before jumping into Abigail last night.”
Sami, who routinely scoffed at any of Kate’s claims, had to take this news seriously when her father nodded his head solemnly. Beating a retreat, she called Brady and then Belle and asked them if they’d heard about this. Both swore they hadn’t. So, all three decided they’d converge on John and Marlena and find out what the hell was going on. Sami arrived first at the townhouse.
Outside their door, she’d paused to prepare. It hadn’t been smooth sailing with them – especially John. Especially since that terrible day in 2020. After a bitter argument between them, he’d collapsed and suffered an aneurysm; and since then, he had been just as likely to fly off the handle as she.
But she couldn’t let that prevent her getting the first-hand scoop. So, she rang their doorbell insistently until both of them came and opened it. After barging in, and demanding they explain this renewed demon hype, they ushered her to the sofa. Both of them appeared to have been crying, and that alarmed Sami. But they also stood together and smiled at her so sweetly, informing her they had something to tell her. However, since she’d said Belle and Brady were on their way, John said they’d wait for them. And he disappeared briefly to call Carrie and Eric, managing to hook them into an online audio/video connection by the time first Brady and then Belle arrived.
When everyone could see one another, John admitted to them all there had been another incident with demon possession. But both he and her mom assured the aghast group that this demon had completely departed from Marlena.
After quite a few comments from shocked/relieved listeners, her mother said that due to this brief possession they had come across some vital information. Although both John and Marlena tried to keep explanations of how they obtained the information to a minimum, it took a while before John finally said, “Look, kids, I’m going to play the recording that Marlena and I heard earlier this morning. We think it’s the fastest and maybe the most comprehensive way for you to understand what we do now.”
As the audio began, Sami thought it sounded like E.J, although she wasn’t absolutely certain because of the crackly quality of the recording. But as she listened to what the speaker had to say, her interest in his identity faded, and she became engrossed in what he claimed.
No one interrupted. And when “E.J.” concluded, she saw shell-shocked faces on every “kid” listening. Before anyone could utter a word, Sami bounded to her feet. “It’s a lie. All a fabricated, giant plot to screw us all again! That was E.J., right? I’m going to go find that piece of –” She was at the door already. “I’m going to wring the truth out of that bast–.” As she finished the word, she slammed the townhouse door behind her.
Her impetuous exit meant she hadn’t heard any of the reactions of Carrie, Eric, Brady, and Belle.
Sami doubled her efforts to locate E.J., but she just confirmed again he’d been out of town for the last four days and wasn’t expected back for several more. Of course, she called and texted him, but he didn’t respond. Sami assumed his continued disgust at her for her tryst with Lucas kept him quiet, not to mention a desire to avoid acknowledging the thinly-veiled accusations she had shot at him earlier via iphone. She left him more detailed messages that should have prompted something from that infuriating man. Nothing though.
Spending the rest of the day by herself, Sami racked her brains for every possible argument against what E.J.’s recording had revealed. She thought about going to see her “dad’ again, but she didn’t want to be the one who broke the news about the recording to him. She drove around the countryside aimlessly, locked in her whirling thoughts and fears.
Finally, dead tired, she returned to the Salem Inn, and, as already mentioned before, tossed and turned all last night.
She was still being ignored by E.J., Sami noticed as she checked her phone this morning. But she had also ignored several calls from others. Eric twice, her “dad” once, and her mother once also. Each had left messages. Sami had to assume that her “dad” had heard the recording. She cautiously played his message, “Sami, I know you, like me, are very confused right now. I’m honestly not sure what to believe, and I guess we will have to do another DNA test. But, please don’t disappear on us all again, okay? I still don’t know where you were the last six weeks. We’re going to need to talk, so stick around. Love you. Call me back.”
Pacing around her room, Sami couldn’t decide if she should call him or not. Could it really be true that this man she’d known as Roman Brady for the last thirty years was actually Harlan Kennedy? She decided to procrastinate about calling him. She also didn’t listen to the other messages.
Sitting back down on the unmade bed, Sami pulled a pillow and wrapped it around the top of her head, covering both ears. She smushed it against herself, hoping vainly to keep the antagonistic world at bay.
Her life was super complicated without this unwanted development. She hoped she hadn’t made a big mistake by coming back to Salem now, but an inner guide had prodded her.
So far she hadn’t contacted any of her children since arriving back in Salem. The last thing she wanted was to involve them in her problems. But with this new predicament, if she didn’t talk to them, someone in the family undoubtedly would. Or they would hear it from someone outside the family circle as the news spread.
Sami felt ill whenever she played back sections of the recording in her head. What kind of demented human being would destroy the natural lives of four unrelated men for his own “plotting pleasure”? Abhorrently unhinged already that Stefano DiMera had mercilessly played with the lives of “John” and the “Roman” who returned in 1991. But now, if what E.J. said was true – and Sami half-admitted to herself that her mom and “John” would not have played that audio for them all if they didn’t have solid evidence to back up its assertions – two other men had also been caught in Stefano’s evil web. So diabolical. Stefano certainly had given demons a run for their money. Even though he was definitely dead, his machinations continued to cause heartache and confusion.
Enough of this, Sami thought. I’m getting nowhere just brooding here. She showered, did her best to cover the pouches under her eyes with makeup; and dressed in jeans, a satin blouse; and a smart looking, short, washed lambskin leather jacket.
She had a mission.
Part 2
Once again Sami stood in front of the townhouse door. Always impetuous, she knew storming out yesterday hadn’t been the smartest move. Now, she returned at a disadvantage because she didn’t know what had occurred after she fled.
Deliberately here relatively early in the morning, Sami wanted to catch them at home, so she wouldn’t have to wait until this evening.
“John” opened up before she could stab the doorbell a second time. He wore black jeans and a navy blue sweatshirt. He did a double-take and then said, “Good morning, Sami.”
“Are you expecting someone else?” Sami asked.
“Yeah, as a matter of fact. We’re expecting your Aunt Kayla.”
“Well, I can come back. I came a little earlier than is polite because I wasn’t sure if you and Mom would be going to work today.”
“No, no, we’re not. And, no, you don’t need to come back, Sami. Come in.”
Sami could not think of this man (who rubbed his hands together a little nervously) by any other name than “John”. He smiled at her and asked if she’d like some breakfast.
Truth was, Sami hadn’t eaten more than a bite or two in over sixteen hours, and, all of a sudden she felt famished. She followed “John” into the kitchen/breakfast nook. Expecting to see her mother, it surprised her not to.
“Is Mom okay?” she asked.
“She’s fine. Don’t worry. But she had a few nightmares last night. She’s catching up a little on her sleep. She’ll be down soon.”
As he finished speaking, they both heard Marlena call from upstairs, “Was that Kayla?”
“No. It’s Sami. I’ll let you know when Kayla arrives. Take your time, honey. We’re just going to have some breakfast.”
“John” had prepared bacon, eggs, and French toast, and he handed Sami a full plate as well as a mug of coffee, and sat down with her at the little table, his own food and mug in front of him. Both of them tucked in.
Sami felt self-conscious – as though she should say something, but she just couldn’t find the words. Oddly, “John” didn’t seem to mind. He seemed relaxed and unhurried with her here at the table. She felt no indication that he wanted something from her.
Just as he finished his last bite, the doorbell rang again. “Excuse me,” he said, and stepped quickly to the front room. Sami felt tempted to go out and see what that was all about, but instead she cleaned her plate, and then took his and her own dishes, rinsed them, and placed them in the dishwasher.
She heard her mother descend the stairs, and waiting a few moments, she realized they were not coming into the kitchen. As Sami walked into the living room, she heard her aunt say, “As promised, we did a rush on the tests. Belle and I both observed all the stages, and kept track so no mixups could occur.”
They all looked at Sami as she came in and drew close to them. Marlena smiled at her too, but then turned back to Kayla. “So,” she said, her voice faltering a little, “What are the results?” Sami noticed how close together her mom and “John” stood – just as they had yesterday when she’d arrived.
Aunt Kayla swallowed and drew herself up. “It’s what you thought.” She reached out and lightly swiped “John’s” arm. “You are my brother, Roman.” She swallowed again, and her eyes teared up. She came closer and gave both Marlena and “John” a strong hug, which they returned. Then Sami’s mother turned her head, and Sami saw tears in her eyes. She knew instinctively she would see them in “John’s” eyes too if she looked, but she kept her gaze trained on her mother. Marlena reached out her arm and pulled Sami into the huddle. Sami responded, but she felt duplicitous doing it. She broke the little circle first.
Her aunt wiped her own eyes, and moved to Sami. She gave her cheek a kiss.
“Sami, sweetie, it’s confusing for us all. But we’ll work it out. I love you.”
Well, what could she say to that? “I love you too, Aunt Kayla.”
Before Kayla left, she updated everyone on Abigail’s progress. “She woke up about five hours ago. She acted like Abigail, not a demon. But Chad and a couple of priest exorcists who flew in aren’t taking any chances. They think the demon is just temporarily submerged and will surface again. So, she’s staying in bed with restraints.”
“Good,” “John” said. “We’ll keep praying for her. She’ll be okay.” Marlena nodded fervently. Sami did too, wondering to herself how in the hell the demon had gotten loose again in Salem.
Her aunt went home to get some rest, leaving Sami with two people she again felt awkward around.
Her mother, dressed in new-looking blue jeans; a white, high-collared shirt, and a familiar red sweater, turned to her. Her eyes still moist with emotion, she enveloped Sami in her arms. “So glad you came back, sweet girl.”
Embarrassed, Sami mumbled, “I’m just glad you’re okay, Mom. You are, right?”
“Yes, I’m demon-free, thank God. But one of the things I promised to do was see one of the priests who arrived here to help Abigail. He and I have an appointment this morning. But, first, I smell enticing aromas from the kitchen. Any left for me?”
“John” grinned at her. “You bet. But it probably needs warming up.”
Marlena kissed her husband. “No problem.” Again turning to Sami, she said, “We’ll talk, okay? I shouldn’t be long. Can you stick around until I return?”
Sami didn’t like that idea. “I can come back, Mom.” She looked at “John.” “Are you going too?”
“No,” he said. “I wanted to, but Father Franklin, whom I don’t know, asked if he could meet with your mother first. He may come here afterward. Or he may ask me to meet him at the hospital too later. It hasn’t been decided.”
Marlena gave Sami’s forearm a little reassuring squeeze and requested, “Stay here until I come back, please, Sami?”
Letting her eyes drop, Sami acquiesced. “Okay. I can do that.” Her mother rewarded her with a broad smile, and urged her to have a seat. Sami picked a chair instead of the sofa.
While Marlena claimed her breakfast in the kitchen, “John,” a pensive expression pasted on his face, cleared his throat. Sami noticed the tension in his features. For a man of seventy-one, his body and face were lean. Sami always thought his nearly white hair made him look older than he was. But his eyes never really missed anything, and lately, he appeared to have had more control over his emotions and actions than in the previous months after his aneurysm. Of course, she’d missed the last six-seven weeks entirely, so she couldn’t vouch for that time. She did notice some black and blue marks on his throat.
“John” cracked his knuckles and started to speak, but Sami beat him to it, “What happened with Mom this time? How did the demon come back, and how did it cross from her into Abigail?”
“We’re still not really sure how the demon came back to Salem. But I think the movie Johnny made about the first possession back in ’94-’95 may have opened the door somehow –”
“Johnny? My Johnny? I didn’t know about that. He made a movie?”
“Yeah, your Johnny. My ‘namesake.’ ” “John” gave her a “well-you-know-what-I-mean” look. “He wanted to tell the story, but I think he forked up shit (pardon me) he should have left unturned. I tried to warn him off, but he wouldn’t listen. I’m going to have to talk to that kid again.”
“Huh. Me too, I guess. I want to know more about that. But, how could that bring the demon back?”
“Don’t know. It seems to have taken over Doug, and we haven’t gotten the backstory on that yet, because he’s still pretty weak, even though he’s demon-free.”
“But the thing jumped into Mom?”
“Yep.” He shook his head. “Your mom went to see Doug, and when they were alone together, the evil thing hopped over.”
“When was that?”
“About a week ago.”
“So, she was possessed for a few days before you knew it?”
“John” rubbed the back of his neck and stretched it. “Mm hmm.” He looked pained. “I should have paid better attention. There were a few warning signs, but I didn’t pick up on them as markers that the demon was back – or maybe this was another demon, I’m still not sure.”
Sami frowned. “What kind of signs?”
He leaned forward and put his hands together between his knees. “She wanted to sleep in really icy temperatures one night, but the next morning seemed perfectly fine.”
“What finally clued you in that she was definitely possessed again?”
Standing up – as though he just didn’t want to be in his own skin – “John” turned away from her and looked out the window panes. Sami watched him closely, realizing his unease. He said, “Let’s just leave it at this: something happened at the Pub, and the demon showed itself to me (and also to Ro- Harlan). I don’t really want to get into details. Your mom and I haven’t discussed it yet.”
“Haven’t discussed what?” Marlena asked as she swept in and picked up her purse on the desk.
“John” shook his head. “It’s not important right now, sweetheart. You’ve got your phone, right? Drive carefully, and let me know if you’re bringing this Father Franklin back here, okay?”
Marlena raised her eyebrows, but didn’t pursue her question. She held up her cell and then tucked it into her handbag. “Okay, honey.” She stepped to Sami and kissed her head, saying “See you soon.” Then she passed by “John”, and they kissed. He opened the door for her, and she bustled out.
Distracted for a moment, Sami reoriented herself on the subject at hand. “How did the thing then shift over into Abigail?”
“Hours after the Pub, I found your mother again. First, I caught up with her at her office at the hospital. But she got away from me there. So, later I went to the DiMera mansion and, sure enough I found her – and sleepless Abigail – in the secret room. One thing led to another, and I realized I didn’t have the luxury of waiting for a time alone with the demon. So, I begged God to cleanse your mother of the demon. I also asked Him to protect Abigail.”
Sami harrumphed. “Sounds like the Abigail part of your prayer wasn’t answered.”
“Well, God works in His own time, Sami. I am certain Abigail will also be freed of the demon.”
Sami nodded soberly, Then she gestured at his bruised throat and asked, “But did the demon just docilely pass from Mom into Abigail? Or was there an epic struggle like you had with the demon in the morgue years ago?”
Unconsciously touching his neck again, “John” replied, “When I prayed to God to release Marlena from the demon, I felt as if a tremendous lightning bolt hit me. I collapsed and passed out. When I regained consciousness – probably only a minute or two later – the demon-in-Abigail hovered off the floor a couple feet, and your mom lay unmoving in the corner. The demon threw me against the wall, and I went out like a light again.”
He motioned at the finger marks on his neck. “These, I got earlier, during another confrontation.” He didn’t elaborate, and Sami knew it was because her possessed mother had choked him – as had happened back in 1995.
“But you and Mom both woke up, and the demon had left her, correct?” Sami enquired.
“Yeah. That’s right. Thank God, your mom is free. And they are working on freeing Abigail now. She’s not wandering about; she’s at the hospital in a private room.”
Sami stared at “John”. “You saved her in ’95, and you did again now.” Her eyes watered. “Thank you!”
“John” came and hunkered down in front of her. He touched her shoulder gently. “Sami, God saved your mom, not me. I just did my part.”
“Okay, yeah, but you were there for her. She wouldn’t have made it the first time if it hadn’t been for you. And because you were there this time, she is demon-free now.”
He smiled at her encouragingly. “Well, where else would I be, Sami? I love her more than life itself. You know that.” He stood up and moved behind the coffee table. He brushed his eyes lightly, and Sami knew he’d gotten choked up.
She cleared her throat because she too felt a burst of emotion. But something stubborn kept her from replying.
She could feel “John” appraising her. But he changed the subject, “Did you talk to E.J. yesterday?”
Sami grimaced. “No. He’s out of town, and he hasn’t returned my messages or texts.”
“John” nodded. “He hasn’t returned mine either.”
Sami thought, but didn’t say: for a different reason, undoubtedly. In her case, because E.J. was still angry with her – and perhaps because he didn’t have a clear conscience himself. In “John’s” case, probably because E.J. didn’t want to face the music regarding his keeping this giant secret about Roman Brady’s identity.
Sami couldn’t sit still anymore. She got up, wiped her nervously sweaty hands on her jeans, and moved around “John” to look out the window at the town and river scenery. Finally she said quietly, “Sorry I rushed out before everyone else yesterday. I guess you all talked about the recording after I left?”
“Yeah, well, Carrie, Eric, Belle, and Brady were all pretty stunned, same as you. Same as your mother and I were when we first went through the boxes, saw some of the evidence and then heard the audio. They all need to absorb it, Sami. Same as you. Same as me and your mom.”
“You also told other people, right? I got a phone message from Da- from,” she swallowed, “from who I thought was my father.”
“John”, his hands stuffed in his pockets, came to stand a few feet away on Sami’s right side. “Yes, we owed it to tell him as soon as possible. He and Kate were here later yesterday and heard the tape – along with Kayla, Steve, and Kim, who was on video chat. Naturally, he wanted to believe it was a hoax – just as you did.”
Sami glumly kept staring out at the scenery so she could avoid “John’s” eyes. “It’s a pretty damn fantastic (not in a good way) story, isn’t it? How could Stefano pull off something so evil?”
“John” snorted. “I refused to believe it at first too. That crazy old man was more wicked than I ever guessed.” He added, “But, as you heard today, Kayla, along with Belle as another witness, shepherded through more DNA tests, and she assures us they are conclusive. I’m sure Belle is busy telling quite a few of the extended family right now – and, of course, filling in Shawn.”
Sami couldn’t help but chuckle wryly. “I’m sure too.” She still didn’t want to acknowledge the truth. But she turned to “John” now and said plainly, “It’s just all so screwed up.”
“John” held her eyes. “I know, Sami.” He moved the few feet necessary to stand right beside her, and he said so very softly, “I wish it could have been different.”
Sami’s eyes clouded. She fought to stop that, and she turned back to the window. She and “John” had been bitter adversaries this last year, and the three decades before that, the periods of peace had been few and far between. And whose fault was that, she asked herself impatiently. Sami didn’t engage in much remonstration of self, but deep inside she knew she had kept the distance between them. “John” had often made efforts to show her he loved her. Once in a blue moon, she had also, but then she had always reverted to antagonism and outright rejection.
“But it wasn’t,” she said with finality.
“John” sighed and turned his body so he too viewed the outdoors instead of Sami. “You know, at least two disastrous times, I held on to my biological son, Brady, as if he were saving me from drowning. And each of those times I managed to hurt your mother terribly in the process. The first time, Brady went through that phase in which he, as a teenager, inexplicably turned on Marlena, even though she always loved him as a son. He treated her abominably. And I just wouldn’t see it. I took his side, even as he lied to me time and again and continued to insult and threaten your mother. I failed Doc hugely then.
“And a few years ago, I became so obsessed with protecting Brady from Kristen that I again wounded your mother deeply, and also severely damaged my relationship with Brady. Then, I couldn’t find a way back for a while. I took refuge in being away from Salem as much as possible. Understandably, it took a while before Marlena started to trust me again. We finally drew closer again after I spent another couple months in a coma, but even then, she feared being hurt again.
“Why am I telling you this? Because, Sami, I think a big reason I held on to Brady so tightly was I couldn’t bear to lose him as I’d lost you, Eric, and Carrie.” “John’s” voice caught, and he stretched his neck and rocked a little on the balls of his feet. “I never told you three how much it killed me when we got the ‘news’ back ’91 that I wasn’t Roman Brady. I wanted to show you a brave face so you could feel good about getting to know your ‘real’ father.”
Sami attempted to break in, but “John” continued unheeded, “I stepped away, and tried to make a new family with Isabella and little Brady. And, yes, I loved them. It was another horrible blow when Izzy died, and left me with a son to raise alone. But, the hole in my heart from losing you three and your mom wouldn’t heal.
“When I found out Belle was mine, I felt immense joy. Despite all the sorrow that the so-called “Affair” caused to so many, I thanked God that I had a child with Marlena. Even though for years in the ’90’s, there wasn’t anything but deep friendship between Doc and me, I clung to the connection I had with her in Belle.
“Belle, too, as the only other biological child (besides Brady) I thought I had for decades, gave me the gift of letting me be a father. And I needed that so badly. I needed to be able to be a father to them since I couldn’t be one to you, Eric, and Carrie.
“Belle’s independent spirit didn’t allow me to hold onto her as I did to Brady though. So, Brady and Marlena were the victims of my inner demons, more than Belle was.”
“John” turned toward Sami again and that action caused her, almost as if he were a magnet to her iron, to face him. Her chin trembled involuntarily. He said beseechingly, “Many of those demons – sorry, bad way to express it, but that really is how I think of those inner sorrows I grappled with – stemmed simply, from my inability to really accept that the three children I first recalled meeting in early 1986, and whom I lived with and loved fiercely for more than five years, were not mine. That Marlena and I could not regain the family we’d formed together in 1986. That I was an outsider forever. Even when I and Marlena were married, I was officially just the stepfather. It wrung my heart.
“And, honestly, Sami, our clashes over the years, especially this last year, cut me to the bone.
“So, whatever your reaction to the news, here’s mine: I didn’t want to let myself believe any of it. I just couldn’t allow myself to be set up for another terrible fall. But your mother started to believe it. And when she did, the appalling pallor of her skin – due to this possession – changed right before my eyes. She glowed with healthy rosiness. She radiated joy and hopefulness. And when she showed me the various DNA tests she’d kept over the years, and how they were identical to the 1991 one for Roman Brady, I couldn’t resist anymore. I knew it was true. After all these years, I can finally claim my rightful place in life, Sami. And my rightful place is as Roman Brady, Marlena’s husband, and father to you, Carrie, and Eric.”
Tears rolled down his face as he spoke the last words. He held out his arms to Sami. And at that moment, nothing could keep Sami from walking into them and clutching him as tightly as he did her.
Never had he talked so frankly, so openly about himself with her. And Sami thought she knew why. Opening up to her or any of the Brady children would have left him vulnerable to hurt because he’d really had no legitimate basis for assuming such intimacy. A man can’t really be father to children on whom he has no claim. This is especially true when another man has been declared to be their biological father.
Of course children could be adopted, and then their “real” father was arguably the man who’d adopted them, cared for them, loved them as his own. And, after 1991, there were times when John Black had told each of the three Brady kids that he loved them as if they were his own. Carrie had taken to that the best. Eric wasn’t far behind her. Both of them had chosen the path of, in essence, having two fathers.
But Sami had generally been resistant. She’d chosen to put all her eggs in the basket of the man who’d come back in 1991 and been declared Roman Brady. She kept telling herself she had to be loyal to that man, and by doing that, she didn’t have room in her heart for a second dad.
So, now, Sami had to come to terms with her decision to treat this man as an enemy more often than not.
Still in his arms, Sami struggled for the words she should say. She pulled herself away and sniffled, quickly brushing away her own tears. She looked up at the face that didn’t look at all like the Roman Brady who had married her mother. This was the face of John Black instead. But behind the countenance, this was her father. The man who had given her life. The man who had raised her the first, crucial years of her life. The man who had reached out to her many times in the years since then. And the man who loved her mother with unending passion and as a soulmate.
Her heart pounded as she said, “Why would you even want me around? I’ve been awful to you more times than I can count.” She closed her eyes in pain of remembrance. “Even though Mom assured me I didn’t cause your aneurysm last year, the ‘coincidence’ of your collapsing as I railed at you and hateful statements flowed out of my mouth is something I haven’t forgotten. I should never have said those things.”
“I wasn’t exactly loving to you when you came to see me in the hospital,” he reminded her. “Fortunately I didn’t bean you with that plant I threw.”
“That was a surprise, yeah,” she agreed, smiling ruefully. “But I just don’t know when to quit, sometimes. I let myself spool out like a fishing rod line – way out into the deep, using myself as bait. What I’m trying to hook, I don’t know. I let my anger grip me and take me for a ride, is another way to put it. I just don’t know how to put the brakes on once I’ve revved up.”
“That’s true,” this father of hers said. “You do. And honestly, it surprises me that you haven’t mellowed in that department. Although, I must say there have been times in your life when you have shown the world a very mature Sami.”
“But it doesn’t last,” she noted quietly.
“Not so far.” He reached out a finger and hooked a stray bit of hair, tucking it behind her ear. “But, as I said, I’ve had my own battles, casting out into tidal waves and then barely surviving.”
“I really wasn’t reckoning to have to deal with this when I came back. Sometimes I just don’t want to set foot in Salem again. This city seems cursed.”
“Yeah, I know that feeling.”
Sami ran her fingertips idly along the windowsill. She felt defeated. “I don’t know how to deal with this,” she repeated helplessly.
Gently, he said, “You don’t have to change anything really where Harlan – Roman – is concerned, Sami. He loves you. You love him. Keep loving him. You can keep calling him ‘Dad’ if you want. He raised you part of your life, and he’s been the one you thought was your biological father for most of your life. No one wants to deprive you of him. I’m sure he – although he’s got a lot to digest and work through – would greatly appreciate a continuation of the relationships he’s built with you, Eric, and Carrie.”
His kind and generous words astonished Sami. She met his eyes – her light blue ones head on with his darker blue ones. “I – I guess you know exactly what he’s going through. Suddenly he’s lost his identity. He’s being told he’s this other guy named Harlan Kennedy, and he’s got no idea who that might be. He’s not our bio dad. He’s not a Brady at all.”
“Yes,” he nodded. “I know exactly what he’s facing. And your mom and I want to do everything we can to help him.”
Then Sami asked boldly, “Why do you love me? Is it just because you remember me when I was little and, I guess, sorta cute and cuddly? Is it because you raised me during those early years? I sure as hell haven’t given you any real reason to love me and stick by me.”
“You love all your children unconditionally, don’t you, Samantha?” he asked seriously.
“Of course. They’re my babies. No matter how old I or they get, they always will be.
“But it’s not the same for you,” she argued. “You don’t remember when we were born – that wasn’t the best way to say that, but you were cheated out of those memories by Stefano. Sure, you raised us when we were little tykes, but it’s been thirty years since the big split of our family, and, as I’ve said, I’ve been really rotten to you (and to mom) more times than either of us can count. In a way, we abandoned you after you had to leave us. Me especially. And, finally, you didn’t know we were your bio kids all these years. Now we find out, but so much water has gone under the bridge.”
He seemed undeterred by her statement. “I don’t know exactly. Perhaps something in the back of my mind has just always known you were my children, and even though my conscious mind couldn’t embrace that or acknowledge that in any way, I’ve just kept on loving you. Nothing made me change my feelings for you, Sami. I’ve always loved you, even when I wasn’t part of your family.”
Sami felt something break inside. A dam of suppressed feelings began to flood her. Quick images flashed through her mind of her with this dad when she was in kindergarten and first grade. Learning to read at the dinner table while he listened and helped her sound out words. Playing “Go fish” with him. His teaching her and Eric how to bat a ball. Times in the car with him, telling him about her day. Rushes in the morning to get to school on time. The day she took a necklace of her mother’s to school for show and tell, and lost it! Fortunately, her father, the policeman, found it where she’d unknowingly dropped it. Him at their backyard barbecue, checking the hamburgers and hotdogs for Eric’s and her sixth birthday party. His genuine laughter at the silly jokes she learned at school and told him later. It all rushed through her mind.
A warm rush of tears wet her cheeks. “You were a great father to us. I just closed my heart when you left though. I couldn’t let myself think about that anymore. Everyone else seemed to move on easily – including you. It angered me. I felt cast off.
“And in the following years, I didn’t see you, or Mom, or even my other dad very much. He actually left on a mission for several years. And you two got enmeshed in all sorts of nearly lethal predicaments – including that first, extended possession. If I did see you, it was usually with Mom – which as you know, just riled me further.
“Of course, I got myself into a heap of trouble too, but mostly I felt I had no choice but to navigate it on my own. I headed into adulthood without any of you guys, really. Having Will, for example.
“And, of course, I falsified Belle’s paternity DNA test.” She sniffled again. “I’m so sorry about that. I was so wrong to do it.”
“You were a desperate and determined youth, Sami. You were sure your mom belonged with the man you thought – we all thought – was your dad. And my being Belle’s father would have ruined that. It did ruin it.”
He swung around and snagged a couple tissues from a box on the table and handed them to Sami. He also took a couple and wiped his own face. “The irony is, your mother and I were really married that whole time. But Stefano’s evil schemes lead to the heartbreak and trauma we all felt. As you know, your mom suffered intense guilt for many years because of our “Affair.” I felt guilty too, and I was determined that I’d never hurt her like that again. She lost so much because of me. It led me off on an obsessive drive to find love elsewhere.”
“Kristen,” she supplied. She blew her nose rather indelicately, and then disposed of the Kleenex.
Looking down dejectedly, he nodded. Also throwing his used tissues in the basket, he said, “Another failure of mine. It ended up hurting Kristen and changing her…and it caused Marlena so much agony and suffering again.” He paused.
“Sami. You aren’t alone in making some big screw-ups. I have many regrets in my life. And, where you’re concerned, one of those regrets is that I made the choice I did in ’91. I honestly thought at the time that walking away and letting the man who’d been declared Roman Brady take back ‘his’ life, ‘his’ family, ‘his’ job, was the right thing to do. It killed me, but I did it.”
He focused on Sami squarely. “What I didn’t properly factor in though was how you felt about it. And, really as I say this, I’m ashamed I can phrase it as a kind of calculation. I just assumed you and Eric and Carrie would be happy to have your ‘real’ dad back. At the time, my own sense of self had been obliterated, and I lacked the self-confidence to believe that you three would miss me.”
“We did!” Sami said almost vehemently. “But you weren’t the only one who discounted how we felt. Mom did. ‘Dad’ – the ‘new one’ – did too.”
“I’m sorry, Samantha. I – we all – should have stopped wallowing in our own pain and paid attention to your needs. I should have been there for you. I should have helped you make the transition.” He reached out and touched her shoulder. “If I had, perhaps we wouldn’t have spent so many decades estranged.”
Sami didn’t know what to say. Part of her hated his making all these apologies and concessions. Even though she herself had heaped blame on him (and on her mother…and on her other father) for these faults, the closeted daughter part of her cringed at his frank admissions because she longed to still see him as she had as a child: a big, strong man who knew everything and could not err.
“I – I guess I sometimes forget that just as I’m a very imperfect parent, and I have to forgive myself, I need to extend that right to my parents too. I’m not a kid. The illusions of childhood left me long ago. I have no right to expect any of you to be without blemish. But, deep down, I doggedly want to cling to my childish recollection of you as the man who could do no wrong.”
When he sought to take her in his arms, she didn’t resist. “Sweetheart, you aren’t alone in that. We all have that secret desire, I think. Hell, you know across the years, my supposed parentage has changed. At one point I thought I was the son of Colleen Brady and Santo DiMera. And more recently, I had evidence of being John Robicheaux, son of Maude and Timothy. In both of those cases, I tried to see them in the best possible light, but none of them could ever win ‘Parent of the Year’ awards.”
“That’s for sure.”
He pulled back a little so he could see her eyes. “But now, I finally know I’m Shawn and Caroline’s son. Their firstborn. I wish they were here to know it too, because, honestly, if ever there were some loving, caring, dedicated parents, they were it. I only wish I’d done half as well as they did.”
Now, she said, “They were wonderful. But they weren’t perfect either. And, I can’t believe I’m saying this, but you are being too hard on yourself. Maybe you should play that mental game of ‘It’s a Wonderful Life’. If you hadn’t been here, Mom would have died long ago. You saved her so many times. You also saved so many others. Remember when you piloted those two doomed planes, years apart, and managed to save just about everyone?”
“I couldn’t save Shawn – Pop.”
“That wasn’t your fault.” She added, “You’ve cheated death yourself many times. And you are, at heart, a really great man. If you weren’t, Mom wouldn’t have fallen in love with you, first as Roman Brady and then as John Black.
“It’s just so hard to try and turn on a dime and suddenly be back to you being my birth father and the other dad not being.”
He hugged her again. “I understand, Sami. Really. I feel the same way. As I said, it’s going to take time for all of us to absorb the full ramifications of this truth.”
Part 3
Just then Sami’s phone began insistently “burring” in her purse. She disengaged herself and plucked it out.
“Maybe this is E.J.,” she said. But, no. She stared at the screen and just stood there frozen. She didn’t answer. Finally, the “ringing’ ended. No voicemail was left. But before she could return the phone to her purse, a text popped up. “Camped out in front of the Black’s building. You can’t avoid me when you come out. Z.”
Sami blanched. How had he found her so quickly?
Her father asked, “What is it, Sami? Are you okay?”
She nodded because she didn’t want to have to explain her plight to him. He persisted. “Who is that?” She obviously hadn’t schooled her expression enough.
“It’s nothing. He’s just a guy, and I intend to ignore him and stay out of his way.”
“Why do you have to stay out of his way? Is he in your way?”
Sami knew it had been a mistake to take out the phone in his presence. Now, he wasn’t going to let this go, especially after he’d seen her reaction.
“It’s okay. I can handle it.”
“Yeah? You’ve been gone for weeks. And as far as I know, every time your mother tried to get in touch with you she came up with a big fat nothing. I don’t think others had better luck in connecting with you. And now you seem frightened of this character. Tell me, Sami. Tell me what’s going on.” He looked at her intensely, and she felt a desire to do exactly what he asked: unburden herself, finally, of everything.
It came bursting out, “Back in August, on the 11th to be exact, I went to see Rafe, and as I knocked on the door, everything went dark. I woke up – I don’t know how many hours later – in a room. My head ached, and I think I’d been chloroformed, from behind, at Rafe’s door.
“The weird thing was, the room was comfortable enough and even had a window (made of unbreakable glass – I tried) to allow in sunshine and let me see a huge lake that never seemed to have any boats or swimmers. I got three meals a day through a slot in the door, and the room included a bathroom with all amenities. For about three weeks, no one talked to me. I tried to engage the person who brought my meals in conversation but no dice. I didn’t have my purse or my phone, and had no way to get a message out – except through that slot, and that was a non-starter.
“Finally, one night I went to bed as had become my rather hopeless routine, and when I woke next, I had been moved to a different locale. They’d chloroformed me again in my sleep.
“This time, I seemed to be locked in a ‘safe room’ – strangely enough though, with a larger open floor plan than the previous ‘accommodations’ – and with the lock on the outside, not inside. This room had no slot in the door. Inside the safe room, food had been stored as though for the apocalypse, and I could even use a microwave. It also had a large screen TV, but only played the hundreds of DVDs stored in a cabinet. The screen’s remote also accessed a huge in-house library of virtual books. No physical books were available. There were no windows, and I had no idea where I was. I also noticed surveillance cameras installed high where the wall met the ceiling. Only the bathroom, complete with shower/tub appeared unobserved.
“I became terrified that I might never be released. I started trying to stay awake at night – although I went to bed – thinking someone might come and chloroform me again. But after a few nights of very little sleep, I couldn’t keep my eyes open.
“Two nights later though, the door opened during the night, and I had actually become such a light sleeper that I woke up even though it hardly made any noise. Making my eyes mere slits, I peeked at my kidnapper. He appeared tall and lanky, wore dark clothes, including a hoodie and a covid mask, obscuring his face. He entered alone, but I couldn’t tell if anyone else lurked on the other side of the open door. This guy had something in his hand and, my guess was he intended to put me out again.
“When he came close enough, I lunged at him and swung the only ‘weapon’ I had been able to smuggle from the bathroom and conceal in the bed: a fairly flat metal first aid kit that had been mounted on the wall above the toilet. I would have preferred swinging the fire extinguisher at his head, but its placement in the main room meant any tampering with it would have been detected by the cameras.
“Anyway, I slammed the first aid box against him with all my might. Because of my prone starting position in the bed, I only managed to connect with an arm and hand. He yowled in surprised pain, and dropped whatever he’d been holding. I threw aside the covers and, on my knees in the bed, let him have it again. This time, I knocked him senseless, striking the side of his face. For a moment he imitated a tree lumbermen were felling, wobbling but undecided how to go down, and then he collapsed.
“No one came running in from outside the door, and it appeared this guy had come alone. I knew I couldn’t waste a minute. Someone else might be manning the camera video. Still, I’d earlier explored every crevice of this locked space, and I’d found a few plastic restraints in a bottom kitchen drawer. I’d managed to take one without setting off any noticeable alarms for whoever watched me, so I had one at the ready and secured his hands behind his back. I also rummaged in his pockets with insane haste, and came up with a wallet, car keys, and phone. I took them.
“When I arrived there, I found a few sets of clothes approximately my size, including pajamas, and even a washing machine had been installed. I never touched the pajamas. I wore street clothes all the time, even to bed, ready for just such an unlikely opportunity. I slid into my shoes and hightailed it out of the room, slamming the door behind me, hoping it would lock the guy in.
“Outside of the safe room, I found myself in a small plane hangar, with two airplanes parked and chocked. No other person showed himself. Before I escaped, I noticed my own purse and phone on a little table set against one wall. I suspected I had been flown here that last time they’d chloroformed me. Taking my things, I beelined to the one door open and finally breathed fresh night air for the first time in more than six weeks. A recent model black Chevy Silverado waited for its owner just beyond the door. The keys I’d filched worked, and off I drove down a rather bumpy unpaved road. To where? I had no idea where in the world I was.
“After driving ten minutes, my heart stopped thudding so ominously, and I began to think instead of just mindlessly reacting. I found a side road and slipped the truck down it far enough to be invisible from the other road. I checked the kidnapper’s wallet. His name was George Kirk. He lived in Decorah, Iowa. I wondered if that’s where we were. Next, I picked up his phone. It was locked, of course, but I happen to know how to trick open an iphone. I swiftly checked the location, and sure enough, it said Decorah. In a rush, I flipped to his contacts. I only saw unfamiliar names. Just then, the phone rang. The caller was ‘Zane.’
“You know me. I took the call. Just kind of grunted as a greeting. He said, ‘Where are you? You know we’ve got a schedule to keep.’ At that point, I got panicky and disconnected. Then I tossed that phone – aware that he might be able to pinpoint my location with it.
“I started driving again, and in another ten minutes, I’d reached the Decorah city limits. I stopped at a gas station and got directions to the police station. In two more minutes, I’d parked in the police visitor’s lot, and run inside. I reported my situation, first to the duty sergeant and then a detective.
“They sent out officers to pick up the thug in the safe room. I guess they called the owner – or perhaps he was just the manager – of the hangar. But when the police arrived, and the owner opened it, hoodie George had been cleared out of there, and there was no trace that I’d ever been there, either. No clothes, etc.
“I gave the wallet to Detective Orville Oberon, and they also had the Silverado. They went to Kirk’s house, but he wasn’t there. I told Oberon I really needed to get back home because I’d been gone so long. I promised to be available if they made progress on the case and arrested anyone for my kidnapping. I also mentioned the ‘Zane’ call, and that I’d tossed Kirk’s phone.
“It took several hours, but after I told Oberon everything I could, and emphasized I didn’t want any publicity about this as long as we didn’t know who was behind it, he escorted me to Decorah Municipal Airport – a different place from where ‘my’ hangar was located – and we got me a seat on a small plane which flew into another, smaller airport near Naperville, IL. Some choppy weather made it a rather bumpy, white-knuckled flight. From there, I Ubered back to Salem. I’m staying at the Salem Inn, and I haven’t talked to any of the kids yet.”
“That’s quite a story, Sami,” he said, worry for her and anger at her extremity creasing his forehead, his jaw clenching. “Thank God you weren’t hurt. As you do so often, you demonstrated your ability to take care of yourself in dangerous situations.” Her father wrapped her in his arms again, and Sami felt relieved she’d told him.
Releasing her again, he noted, “But, all that doesn’t explain: 1) who wanted you out of the way and why? And 2) How did this Zane character track you down?”
Reluctantly, Sami replied to the first question. “Gosh, you know I make a lot of enemies. It could be the Vitali mob. It could be Kristen. Or maybe even Lucas, trying to ‘protect’ me. And I’m sure some would suggest I did it myself! But if I have to guess, I’d say E.J. could be behind it. Or maybe Nicole. Or maybe both of them.”
“Why? What would be their motive? And why would they do it together?”
Screwing up her face, she replied, “Lucas and I slept together, and E.J. was outraged. But he and Nicole have been getting chummy too. So, perhaps he – or the two of them – just wanted me on ice for a while, and hired Zane and George Kirk to facilitate.”
“Huhn. Could be. That’s as good a theory as any.” He gave her a shrewd look. “You and E.J. are on the rocks? I thought you and he really love each other?”
Sami felt her face burn, and she looked self-consciously away from him. “We do. But lately, it’s just been a slog. It’s made me think of other possibilities and paths I didn’t take.”
He nodded thoughtfully and said gently, “Sounds like you and E.J. are experiencing a midlife crisis, Sami.”
“Maybe,” she conceded. She longed to change the subject. Then she remembered the second part of his question. “I don’t know how Zane tracked me down. But if E.J. is behind this, it would probably be quite simple for him to point Zane at me. I mean, I could have gone elsewhere, but I didn’t. I came back to Salem. How predictable is that? I’m always coming back to Salem after absences of weeks or months. Maybe someone besides Zane has been watching places I might go. And your townhouse is one of the prime sites.”
Now it was her father’s turn to say, “Maybe.” He rested his hands on his hips and continued, “You don’t know what Zane looks like, do you?”
“No,” she shook her head.
“Think that’s his real name?”
“I’m not sure. Why?”
Instead of answering, he asked another question, “You said George Kirk had an iphone. It wasn’t a burner phone?”
“No, not a burner as far as I could tell. I think that was his main phone. Kinda dumb to be using it in the commission of a crime.”
“Maybe he was told he wasn’t doing anything criminal. Maybe he was not aware of the circumstances.”
She scoffed at that. “I was being held in a locked room for weeks. He skulked in during the middle of the night! He must have known he was committing a crime.”
“You’d be surprised. Smooth talkers – like E.J.? – can sell schemes and provide ‘rational explanations’ for criminal behavior. Maybe he told both Zane and George that, as your husband, he had a right to keep you isolated. Maybe he said you were mentally ill, and he was doing it for your own good.”
Sami couldn’t argue with that. She herself had rationalized criminal acts of her own to others many times.
“My point is, Sami, Zane may not know he’s on the wrong side of the law either. That could be his own phone too. He called you. So, you’ve got his number. Let’s see if we can trace that number and find out who we’re dealing with.”
Sami opened her phone again and read off the phone number to him. On his laptop, her father went through some typical P.I. identification steps. While he was busy, Sami said, “Mom’s been gone a long time, don’t you think?”
Checking the time, he said, “Eh, not long enough that I’m worried.” But he picked up his own phone and texted Marlena.
Less than a minute later, a return text came. “It says, ‘Still at the hospital with Fr. Franklin. Home soon.’ “
Satisfied, he now checked the laptop, and then angled it toward Sami. The screen showed a picture of a man who looked like a security guy, or a bouncer. His legal name was Richard Lee Zane, 33 years old.
Sami said, “So, we could track his phone’s GPS and presumably know where he’s “camping out”, right? Hey, maybe he did that with my phone!”
“Technically, civilians aren’t supposed to do that without prior permission from the person they want to locate. We can get Rafe over here, and he can do it for us through proper, legal police channels. After all, you were kidnapped right in front of his door, and he never even knew that. Maybe it’s time to involve him.”
Sami cringed a little. “I’d rather not! At this point, I don’t want to have to explain everything again to Rafe.”
“Thought you’d say that.” He smiled at her. “Just a second.” He disappeared up the stairs. She heard some rummaging and then he was back, holding a pair of binoculars. He went to the window and began searching the street below, saying at the same time, “Sometimes old techniques work just as effectively. We know what he looks like so maybe we can spot him.”
After a few sweeps, he said “I think I see him.” Handing over the binocs, he instructed, “Nine o’clock.”
Sami pointed the glasses to the left and saw a guy sitting in a nondescript sedan in front of the next building. Increasing the magnification, she nodded. “Yup. He matches the picture pretty well.” She returned the binoculars to him. “But what now? We don’t have enough to have him arrested, do we?”
Then she lit up with an idea. “He’s waiting there for me. So, I just go down there, and he tries to grab me, and I’ll taser him, and then we can call the cops.” She looked very pleased with herself.
“No way, Sami. A lot could go wrong with that plan,” he told her sharply.
“Well I’ve got to be the bait. Otherwise, if we don’t have a confrontation here, he’ll lie in wait for me somewhere else – where he really will have the jump on me.”
Before her father could utter another word, Sami grabbed her purse and rushed out the door. As she nimbly took the stairs two at a time, she found her pepper spray, but not her little taser. The spray would have to do. She opened the building’s side door and stuck her head out. This was part of her impromptu plan – pretend to try to sneak away without catching Richard Zane’s attention..
Out of the corner of her eye she watched Zane’s every move though. He probably thought he could parade right in front of her, and she wouldn’t know who he was. She decided to play along and allowed him to come toward her on the sidewalk. She didn’t look at him. She swivelled her head back and forth, acting as though crossing the street were her only goal. Zane was now only a few footsteps from her. But abruptly Sami felt a strong arm around her neck. Whoever had grabbed her jerked her around so she faced the building and then crammed a cloth over her mouth and nose.
Dammit! Sami cursed herself as she struggled against the iron grip. She fought to hold her breath and not succumb to unconsciousness again. Would she never learn? Would she never stop leading with her emotions and her poor judgment? Why hadn’t she anticipated the possibility of Zane having a partner? Was the guy grabbing her George Kirk? Or had Zane found another cohort to help recapture her? Or, could this actually be E.J. behind her?
As she admitted defeat and verged on breathing in the chloroform, her blurry vision took in Zane who stood in front of her and tried to mash the noxious cloth more firmly into her face.
But just as suddenly as she’d been seized from behind, she nearly toppled backward because that thug no longer held her. And Sami still retained enough presence of mind to reach out and scratch Zane’s hands and even try for his eyes. She also raised the little canister of capiscum spray and squirted Zane full in the face. Because he stood so close and a breeze blew, Sami got a whiff too. She coughed and her eyes watered. But she still whirled around to the second attacker…
…Who shot out his fist at his own antagonist – her father, of course, who swung back with superior power. It only took a few seconds before George hit the pavement, his chloroform rag still clenched in his hand. He wasn’t unconscious, but was clearly stunned and out of fighting commission.
Tougher, solider Zane rather blindly stumbled forward, determined to take Sami’s defender out of the equation. He landed a semi-effectual punch.
Grunting, her father remained on his feet, and his already hurt hand returned the favor to Zane. Sami simultaneously delivered another blast of spray. Zane swayed, and then back off, trying to fight off the overpowering stuff seizing up his airways.
Sami’s father pulled his cell phone out of his back pocket and called 911.
Then he said, a little winded, his voice raspy, “You alright, Samantha?”
“Yes,” she said shakily. “Are you?” He nodded, wordlessly.
Her father approached Zane, who still clawed at his face, trying to stop the burning sensation. Pushing the abductor onto the pavement by his shoulder, he told him. “Don’t rub, pal. It makes it worse, as I’m sure you know. Don’t move either, or you’ll get another faceful.”
Sami, still coughing at intervals, glared at Zane – who couldn’t see her through his swollen eyes. “Who’s your boss?” she demanded somewhat shrilly.
His airway still compromised, he could only make animal noises as tears and mucus ran down his face. As a police car pulled up, he finally managed to laugh at her balefully. “You haven’t figured it out yet? Use your brain cells!”
Her face and stance stiffening, Sami said grimly. “It was E.J.”
As one of the officer’s cuffed him and pulled him to his feet, Zane just coughed and streamed more tears.
Meanwhile, the other officer collected the slowly-recovering George Kirk, and they carted him off too. Sami tried to gather her wits as her father spoke to the police. He assured them he would fill in Rafe on these two hoodlums.
Once the cruiser drove off, he put his arm firmly around Sami’s shoulders, and said, rather curtly, “Let’s go upstairs.”
Back in the townhouse, he urged Sami to run water over her face in the bathroom to alleviate the mild pepper spray symptoms she still experienced, and she did. When she came out, she saw him pacing around the front room, arms crossed.
Sami sighed. “I know what you’re going to say. I acted without thinking, and I could have gotten myself – and you – seriously injured or worse.”
He stopped, and rubbed his bruised knuckles, probably unconsciously. He regarded her, and she couldn’t really read him.
He boomed testily, “You know that. But it doesn’t stop you from acting, does it? You just rush ahead, damn the consequences. Yes, that was one potential outcome, for sure.”
He took a deep breath, and lowered his volume a notch. “Another would have been my losing it and killing that guy because, as you know, I’m still not fully recovered from the aneurysm.”
Sami sucked in her breath. Honestly, she hadn’t once considered that. In a rush she said, “I’m sorry, John. I know I’m reckless. When the adrenaline gets going, I just can’t restrain myself.”
He shook his head, a brief pained look flitting across his features. Sami realized her calling him “John” might have contributed to that pain, but before she could even think about making amends for it, he said “We seem to have that in common. Maybe I’m the one who should apologize because you probably inherited it from me. Even before the aneurysm, as you know, there’ve been times in my life when nothing could stop me bulldozing forward. The results have been very mixed, to be sure. I gave you a couple of examples earlier.”
“Without that unflagging determination, Mom would have ended up kidnapped or worse a dozen or more times. You never give up.” Sami added, her expression falling, “I don’t give up either. But a lot of my ‘ventures’ aren’t as honorable. We both know that. And I am sorry for running down there. I didn’t think it through, and as a result I got blindsided by Kirk. That was stupid of me.”
“We both need to work on our obsessive, unbridled sides,” he grumbled sternly.
Sami noticed his bruised hand again, and suggested, nodding at it, “That could use some ice.” She added quietly, “Thank you for saving my butt down there. And I’m sorry I called you ‘John’ again. It’s habit.” She continued self-consciously. “This whole Roman Brady identity reveal just scares the shit out of me, and, as I said, I don’t know how to handle it.”
Part4
Before he could reply, Marlena marched in the front door. She was alone. After greeting her husband with a kiss, she explained that after a long talk with Father Franklin, there were some developments with Abigail. “So, he asked for a rain check. We can both go see him tomorrow.”
Then her gaze fell on his swollen knuckles and she exclaimed, “What happened? What did you hit?” Marlena’s eyes darted between father and daughter, and an unguarded look of relief shot Sami’s way clued in Sami her mother knew he had not decked her. Sami knew not to say anything about Marlena’s split second worry.
Thankfully, apparently her father hadn’t noticed that look. He said, “Sami just recommended ice for it, and I think she’s right.” He glanced at them both. “I’ll let her explain. I’ve got to call Rafe too. I’ll go upstairs to do that, so you two can talk.”
Sami and Marlena watched him leave the room. He seemed older and slower than he had when he’d opened the door to her early this morning. Sami felt a wave of unbidden sadness and some guilt for that. Their conversation felt so unfinished, like old, forgotten clothes waiting for a body to step into them and bring them back to life.
Both she and her mother sat on the sofa. Sami needed to sit.
Apparently Marlena picked up on her husband’s more subdued demeanor too. “Well, Sami, what happened?” she asked warily.
So, Sami launched into the same story she’d told her father about being kidnapped and held, and then finished with the addendum about her running down to the street, thinking she only had to contend with Zane, and being saved by the man she’d so often in the last thirty years thought of derisively as just a third wheel. On Marlena’s face, Sami saw a cavalcade of emotions and expressions play including anger, worry, sympathy, suspense, and alarm.
“Oh, Sami! You could have been kidnapped again with that rash move. Jo – Roman is a strong man, but this George might have been able to overpower him. Plus, if your pepper spray aim hadn’t been true or the canister simply hadn’t fired, the other man might have joined in the fray much more aggressively. You took a terrible risk for yourself and Roman.”
Sami looked shamefaced. “He said it could have gone another way. The aftereffects of his aneurysm might have propelled him to kill Kirk.”
Marlena let out a long breath. “I don’t think he would do that anymore. But I understand why he pointed out that possibility.” She leaned over and embraced Sami. “Thank God, neither of you was seriously injured. You are safe. I’m glad those two have been carted off to jail. But they’re just hired help, aren’t they? Who had you kidnapped?”
“Mom. I don’t know for sure yet, but I’m going to find out.” Sami didn’t want to admit all the problems she and E.J. had. She didn’t want to admit he’d despised her the last time they’d seen one another.
So she changed the subject. She cracked a little smile and pointed out, “You started to call him ‘John’ too.”
“Oh, honey. It’s going to take us all a while to adjust. I’m sure I’ll make that slip a few times.” She chuckled, “And he will too. Probably unthinkingly sign his name ‘John Black’ for quite a while.”
“You sure he wants to change it?”
Marlena leaned away and regarded Sami, apparently trying to gauge how her daughter meant that. Finally she said softly, “He doesn’t have to if he doesn’t want to. Whatever he chooses is fine with me.” She asked, “Did you and he talk about it? About this discovery that he’s really Roman Brady?”
Biting her lip, Sami suddenly felt terribly vulnerable. “Some, yes.”
Reaching over to hold Sami’s hand, her mother persisted, “And?”
“Like I told him, I don’t know what to make of this whole mess. Stefano DiMera was one evil f–”
“Yes,” Marlena broke in hastily. “But all any of us can do is go from here, sweet girl.” Gently she prodded, “What are you going to do, Sami? Keep standing apart? Keep inventing reasons why you can’t or won’t draw close? Or will you choose love? Will you choose your father? Will you give him back what he lost so long ago? Will you give yourself back what you lost?”
Sami couldn’t meet her mother’s eyes anymore. She felt herself flush with shame and remorse. But she didn’t want that to well up, fearing it would overcome her if she gave it any rein. So she said, “He told me I could keep calling Dad ‘Dad.’ He said my other father is going to need help, and I can keep loving him, and that he’ll still love me.”
“Of course you can, Sami. Of course he’ll still love you. Harlan – and believe me, it’s so strange for me to call him by that name – is a good man. Yes, he’ll need everyone’s support to get through this. Your continuing to love him will be a great treasure for him.”
Sami knew her mother had more to say, but for a moment, Marlena just studied her. Sami still didn’t look at her directly, but she could feel the silent scrutiny. She blurted, “Don’t analyze me, Mom!” She felt like a moody teenager again. She pulled her hand from her mother’s and stood up, anguish flooding her soul.
Marlena rose from the couch too and enveloped Sami in her arms, tears in her eyes. “Sweetie, no. I’m not a psychiatrist now. I just want to be your mom. But as your mom who loves you so dearly, I beg you to heal your relationship with the father you’ve rebuffed. For your sake…and for his. He loves you so much too, sweet girl.”
In the sudden safety of her mother’s arms, Sami’s inner walls crumbled, and she laid her head on her mom’s shoulder and sobbed brokenly. This time, at first, she didn’t flash back to particular scenes as she had earlier. Instead, her mind played a succession of images of the man she’d known as “Daddy” and then as “John.” She “saw’ him at various ages and with a gamut of expressions on his face.
Then the awful scene from a year ago when he’d collapsed invaded her and her heart constricted. It faded, replaced by him standing solidly behind her outside on the sidewalk, her staunch and still strong defender and protector even when she idiotically rushed into danger. Sami knew she had no other reason than stupid pride to refuse to accept him and love him. It would be a false pride, a pride in taking stands she never should have. And that was no reason at all.
After some time, she stopped blubbering on Marlena’s shoulder. Pulling back, she noticed tears running down her mom’s face too. Sami remembered the tissue box, and this time she pulled out some for both of them.
When they’d dried their faces, Marlena sat them back down on the sofa, side by side, and she rested Sami’s head on her shoulder and lightly stroked her hair. They sat silently for a while. Finally Sami said, “Mom, I’m afraid.”
“We all are,” came the whispery reply. “But what are you afraid of, Sami?”
“That I’ll love him again the way I did. And something will take it all away again.”
Her mother sighed. “I know that fear. He does, too. But, honey, the price of love is that fear.” Marlena kissed her temple consolingly. “But your daddy, who loved you and raised you, Eric, and Carrie, when you were small, is worth that risk. He’s here now. He loves you unconditionally. Don’t let that slip through your fingers, Sami. Embrace your chance. Embrace him. Do it, honey, so when, someday, he isn’t here anymore, you won’t have only ashes of regret, but will have golden memories of daughter/father love rekindled.”
After another moment, Marlena kissed her again, adding, “I think I hear him now in the kitchen. Go to him, sweet girl. Please go to him.”
Her heart hammering, Sami let go of her mother and stood. Her legs shook, she noted, as she headed toward the kitchen. The door to the kitchen was open, and she saw him standing at the counter. She thought he might be writing a grocery list. She stopped in the doorway. He looked at her, his face calm and accepting, but not expectant.
Another memory filled Sami’s thoughts. She spoke quietly, “I just remembered something from shortly before Mom came back in 1991 – and I remember it so clearly. We’d gone to open house at Eric’s and my school. Eric and I were in different classrooms. When we got home, and it was bedtime, you came and sat on the edge of my bed – as you did every night you could. I said, ‘Daddy, what did you like best about my school, my class?’
“You answered, ‘Peanut, you’re what I like best about your class.’ You tickled my ribs, grinned at me and waggled your eyebrows, and added, ‘I love everything about you, that’s a fact.’ Then you nuzzled me a little with your scratchy face the way I liked, you kissed me on the forehead, and snugged up the covers.
“As you headed out, I said sleepily to you –”
” ‘I love YOU, Daddy. That’s a fact, too,’ ” he said for her, his eyes locked to hers and his voice very low and husky. He smiled wistfully, and his eyes welled. “I remember that, Sami.”
Sami’s chin quivered, and she covered the three steps to him and threw her arms around him. “I love you, Daddy. I do. So much.”
Holding her and kissing her forehead, he said in a whisper, “I love you, Sami. Always.”
Fin
Note: This story was finished before the 2021 possession or Sami’s abduction explanation played out on Days of our Lives.
The Jarlena Journal 